The Complete Cycle Around Jersey
I’ve been coming to this delightful rock in the Channel Islands to cycle (and to drink beer) for getting on 10 years now but it’s not until today I can honestly and genuinely say that “I’ve cycled around the entire Island”.
OK, yes, I’ve come damn close before, but every time someone asks me whether I’ve done it I can only bear the guilt of saying “of course” for a few minutes before then laying out the caveats that basically mean I’m kidding myself. You do have to follow the coastline, you do have to go through each bay along the north coast and you cannot just take an A road that chops off large sections in order to get back to your tent before dark.
Just in case you’re here for Bergerac references, pub guides, or parish church experiences, I suggest you try All you need to know when planning a Jersey pub crawl on your bike and A Quick Pedal Around the 12 Parish Churches of Jersey.
This time, in our 2021 covid semi-lockdown mask-wearing new-normal, I got the job done. What follows is a professional execution of a bad plan, whereby I must take photos from each of the four corners of the island without taking my eyes off of the coast, whilst staying alive.
2021 differs slightly from previous years because I find myself at The Palms Campsite (previously Daisy Cottage) in St Ouens, rather than my default goto site in Rozel. This changes the starting line by about 5 miles, having decided to set it in Greve de Lecq instead of The Rozel Pub & Dining. I also decided to begin the challenge and 06:30 and without a hangover. As normal, I go clockwise.
The previous evening I packed my rucksack:
- Spare inner tube
- Pump
- Tire levers
- Energy bars
- Bananas
- Mask
Over the course of the following day it would come to my attention that I forgot to pack and prepare the following items:
- Water
- Waterproof
- Sunblock
- Phone left on 8% power
So being up before any of the cafes were open forced me into a rather pleasant breakfast of a banana on the empty tables of the Seaside Cafe.
Having searched the campsite already for any sight of a power socket (nope) I also scavenged around the covered tables of the cafe — and halfway through the banana, I found some sockets! I was able to bump up to 33% before the ticking clock forced my hand (well, legs).
My philosophy throughout the day was “no cheating”, and so we take cycle route 1 straight up the hill with no stopping for rests until the top. It was at the top that I realised that I had no water and it was likely to be around 2 hours before I reach civilistaion again — bugger! At the top we follow the lanes around to the left, leaving route 1 and hugging the coast. After a few minutes, you’ll reach the coastal path to The Devils Hole.
It’s the coastal paths on bikes that are likely to kill you, else give you a puncture, so you need a decent hybrid bike for this circuit. I used my trusty Specialized AWOL which was 100% reliable throughout.
The path to The Devils Hole (and The Priory Inn) was the least brutal of those that I took and probably gave me false confidence. It’s a little longer than you probably think as there are some large bays to navigate that the road disguises, but the scenery is stunning so it’s well worth it. The paths were around 80% ridable with not a dog walker in sight. You may be braver than me, but I advise to get off and on for the steps and the really rocky bits. For my journey, it was the wildly overgrown paths with bracken and ferns completely obscuring the path at times that were the main problem — at one point I had to turn back as the route was too wild. I think it was after about an hour I saw the Devils Hole in the distance, and with some mild relief, I was able to rejoin a road and see other human beings again.
The first job at The Devils Hole was to wring the water out of my socks and shake all the mud and sticks from my shoes and legs. Sadly, The Priory Inn was not open at half eight in the morning to grab a beer, so I took the coastal road around to Sorel Point. There is an option of a coastal path to Sorel Point but there is no shame in taking the road (especially when as wet as I was) because you never lose sight of the sea getting there. Once there, photo opportunity.
From now on there is no real coastal path for a while as you pass the quarry and the motor cross racing track. Finally, at 08:50, I find The Horse Box Cafe for much-needed water, coffee, and breakfast bap. It’s taken an hour and a half to do roughly 6km, so not off to the most rapid of starts.
From here, continue to hug the coast, sometimes flirting again with route 1, but effectively ignoring it when it tries to take you back inland. The road will take you into Bon Nuit Bay — a beauty — and in my opinion the hardest bay to climb out of.
In order not to cheat, you must complete the cycle into each and every major northern bay and have photographic evidence of you doing so. FYI that’s Plemont, Greve de Lecq, Bon Nuit, Bouley, and Rozel.
If you manage to get to the top of Bon Nuit without stopping (wobbling is okay) then bloody well done you! The first 2/3rds are fine, it’s the last 1/3 that shatters any belief that you can do this in one go.
It’s now that possibly I should have taken the dead-end road into Eqypt such that I had ridden all coastal paths (one for next year) but I did continue the lanes/roads that hugged the coastline as best that I could until you drop into Bouley Bay.
This beautiful bay now seems to be mostly for the diving school, as the hotel and Black Dog Pub have both sadly closed down. Even Mad Mary’s cafe has been closed the last few visits now. But it’s still 100% worth a visit!
Once you’ve had your fill, the cycle up is long but nowhere near as bad as Bon Nuit. At the halfway point you’ll notice a super-steep shortcut to the top that skips all the weaving racetrack roads to the top — avoid that shortcut.
I think it was more important to tackle the cycle up rather than the coastal path to Rozel, which is your next target, and if you do take the path you’ll miss one of the best long cruises down on the island. This was my first tea break. Rozel is probably my favourite place on the island and great for breakfasts thanks to The Hungry Man.
I’ve been coming to Rozel for years and watched them slowly demolish a hotel (I think it was…) in the very middle and build the fortress you see now instead. I had hoped that Madonna secretly lived there, but having asked at the cafe, they said “no”.
I’d taken a lot of photos by now and my phone said 10:30 and 20%. I scrambled as far to the North East as I could before ticking off the first corner of the island.
The roads down the East coast are borderline straightforward compared to the North coast but still will offer your legs some resistance. From Rozel, exit past The Rozel Pub & Dining, keep on going and going until you pass Rozel camping on the left, then take the next left towards Fliquet Bay; I believe you can trust route 1 again for now.
Don’t take the road to St Catherine’s! That not only is cheating but you are also cheated out of another of my favourite spots. Take the road to Fliquet and note the unique castle-like property at the end of your descent!
There is then a footpath from Fliquet to St Catherine's, so again, don’t take the road to St Catherine’s.
I didn’t stop at St Catherine’s because I had been there for a late luncheon just a few days before, but I do recommend taking a pause here to stare out to sea from the breakwater. A mild climb out brings you to the road south that has many opportunities for a swim and some beautiful scenes. It’s a pretty easy cycle to Gorey — again, I didn’t stop.
The push now to the South Eastern corner (La Rocque) to take photos out to sea and off Seymour Tower is not the most inspiring. It looks like there are ways you can stick to the coast but there are many private roads and deadends that have caught me out in the past, so I followed the road past The Pembroke and then towards The Seymour (both closed due to my shortsighted plan to start so early) and finally to take my photos from La Rocque; now down to 10% power.
If you didn’t enjoy the last 45 minutes cycle, then you are unlikely to enjoy the next. However, if you did enjoy the last 45 minutes then you’re in for a real treat. For me, I didn’t, and it was a case of battling a headwind along the suburban coastal road until reaching St Helier.
I arrived at 12:15 and immediately bought a beer. I’d say this is the halfway point, and I was feeling quite confident (especially after the beer!). I once again found an outside power socket that I could access and restored power to 30%.
Determined to not stop for luncheon until St Brelades, I plowed on. It’s flat all the way until you get to St Aubin and pass The Old Courthouse (i.e. The Bergerac Pub).
This was the first time that I had passed this pub without buying a drink, and it felt odd. But it was 13:00 and I wanted to press home the time advantage that I mistakenly thought I had got under my belt. The road towards, past and above the Royal Channel Islands Yacht Club is a bitch.
Once at the top and followed the road to the end, take a left and the first right which will take you down to The Old Smugglers Inn and Ouaisne Bay.
I realise that I have chopped off Portelet Bay, sorry, and next time I promise to fit it in. The cafe/restaurant baked into the cliff is a gem that it’s my duty to share.
With some luck, the tide is out and you can cycle all the way across to St Brelades. If you don’t have that luck then there is a path across the stretch of rocks and trees that are blocking your path. St Brelades, luncheon, 14:00 hours.
From St Brelades you don’t need to immediately do the climb out. You can head to the stunning Parish Church and follow the lanes past Beauport Bay and towards Corbiere and the Lighthouse that you must snap as the 3rd corner of the island. This cycle does include one challenging climb, but it’s a quick one. I haven't been in the bar/restaurant outside the Lighthouse for years, and that’s because my one and only visit there was so depressing — things may have changed in the last 8!
Snap, snap, snap, and move on.
Begin the climb up and take the first coastal footpath you see to take the scenic route on to 5 Mile Beach. By now I was feeling supremely confident. The aim was to get back to the campsite by 18:00 to go for beers at The Farmers Inn, but it wasn’t just time that slipped away from me but all upper body strength and the will to continue…
I followed the road/paths and fought the wind all the way to Faulkner Fisheries which was just closing down — it was 15:45! That was a slow run. At Faulkner’s, I bought a Kit Kat and a glass of Muscadet. The Muscadet blew over the moment I put it down and the Kit Kat is still in my bag somewhere.
Nevermind. The climb up to the clifftop is tough but not to be feared. There are a couple of benches at the summit to appreciate the views from. Turn left at the benches and follow the road to Grosnez Castle, the final corner of the island to breach. There is not much left of the castle to see for reasons you can read about on your visit, but hopefully, the skies are clear for you and you get some cracking views.
So, that’s it, yeah? Job done? Now to get to the finishing line, just a couple of miles down the road. But wait… we still have to visit Plemont Bay, the final Northern Bay to conquer. With time on my side, I decided that the coastal path to Plemont was the only sensible way forward.
This was actually fun, to begin with. Towards the end of this (first) path I had some decent confidence to ride hard up the rocky hills as even if I did now get a puncture, I could walk home. The descents were dangerous, but maybe thankfully for me, I was denied that glass of wine. When I got to Plemont I was tired, sunburnt but alive. On the downside, the cafe had just closed and it was fairly deserted. It was now around 17:30 and without checking the map I foolishly believed the coastal path to Greve de Lecq was shorter than the one I just nailed, so I carried on regardless.
I’ll be honest with you, this last decision was a mistake. I hadn’t realised just quite how much the day had taken out of me physically and this final short path turned out to be the hardest and longest. However, having come out the other side alive I’m quite pleased that I didn’t cheat at the final hurdle.
Whereby the initial coastal path was around 80% cyclable, Grosnez to Plement was around 55% cyclable, this one dropped to around 20% and increased the risk to life considerably.
I should mention that many of these hybrid bikes are quite heavy, the AWOL included. Steep climbs and rocky decents on paths sometimes under a foot in width, with a cliff face beside you, can be a little daunting at the best of times. After what seemed to be at least an hour I stopped to attempt to get another phone signal to try and locate myself — success! Well, turns out I was under half way between Plemont and Greve de Lecq. More worringly, I was exhausted.
I’d just dragged my bike up nearly 50 steps up a rugged hill only to face more overgrown sceneray with not a footpath in sight. Then, to make things worse, three hikers approached and the lead one said “oh boy, you’re in trouble!”. I sensed that the next hour may be worse than the first.
Most of the paths were thick with stingers and thorns, so shorts were not the best attire for me. After about an hour and a half of spells attempting to cycle then dismounting after yet another near fall, autopilot kicked in and I just dragged the bike forward. There was a brief moment when the straps from my backpack caught in the back wheel of the AWOL and pulled me over to my right, where a steep gulley existed that I hadn’t even noticed. It reminded me of when my father found a hiker during his morning run in a gulley in Dorset who had been there all night…
On the plus side, it was still light and it wasn’t raining.
It was about this moment that my phone switched to French time and I thought it was 19:30, when in fact, I’d only been cycling for just 12 hours. And I was back down to around 5% power now with battery saver on and a little red sliver showing on my phone. I was indeed regretting my decision to take the coastal paths when I should have been at The Farmers!
But eventually, Greve de Lecq came in to view!
So I did survive the day to write this little tale and finished how I started: a deserted Seaside Cafe in Greve de Lecq having successfully dodged all of its visitors throughout the day.
I’ll sign off with a warning: The Seaside Cafe stops serving breakfast promptly at 11:00, and all food by 15:00 — I did come a cropper to both of these hard stops.
